Dieary
by tasty cheez
Summary: A short die-ary entry from a high school Johnny C. Written the night/morning before his first massacre. And then the night after his first massacre. I might keep doing these, but don't expect regular updates. Nny didn't format neither do I.
1. april 29

Dear Die-ary, During my increasingly frequent sleepless nights, I have decided that reality is a completely trivial matter. There is no way we can know for sure if anything exists. for all I know I am the only real being in existence. Everyone else is in equivalence to a video game character. They don't exist unless they are interacting with me. I don't even know if I exist. On one of the nights when I do get sleep, I sometimes dream that I am someone else. I wake up confused and disoriented. I'm afraid that I'll wake up one day and the Johnny that I know know will really be a Kevin somewhere and all this has just been some over-elaborate dream. Maybe I just need to sleep. NO!! I won't sleep!! This insomnia is just my body telling me it's superior to everyone else's. Less down time. I'm more officiant. That's it they have all lied to me about what I need. Sleep, Food, People. I don't need or want those things. Sleep leaves you confused. Food inevitably leads back to hunger. And people... I especially don't want people. Why in the hell would I want something so bothersome, so evil. They find enjoyment in mocking others. They don't care if there are any side effects. It's funny so fuck the little fagot. one day I'll get those fuckers. I hate them so much. They will all DIE!! Maybe I am crazy. How does one tell? The logic is clear, They are the cancer spreading amongst an already overpopulated world. Lets trim the fat so that the worthy may play. Can I be right when so many believe I'm wrong? What if I'm the only sane person here? Is that any better than being Insane? I just don't know anymore. maybe I'll kill myself... Maybe I'm the asshole... maybe I go against humanity by not 'fitting in'... Fuck them. SELF PRESERVATION!! Someone must die!! If I die the world is rid of me. if they die the world is rid of so many more evils. I will fight these assholes to the end. Fuck whats right and wrong, my enemy is among the people who decided what right and wrong were. MY own morals. MY own life. All I have is logic to guide me. My feelings have been tainted by society. These may be my last words. tomorrow I'll start at my school. Blood and gore lie in my future. God, I hope I'm not crazy.

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-Johnny C., 4/29 3:34AM.

A/N Johnny belongs to JCV. This particular view of Johnny's high school self belongs to me. This is in no way a call to arms or a cry for help. It is PURE FICTION! this is a cry for help HHHEEEEELLLLPPPPPP!! OH GOD IT'S GOT MY LEGS!! BLAAHHFFFFMLAH!! See the difference? - Tasty Cheez. "Sex teh chickens!"


	2. april 30

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A/N: I am well aware of the horrendous use (or lack of use) of formatting. This is done on purpose. If you look in the books there are a couple of times when you can see pages out of the die-ary. They are written in much the same way. This is also how JV's author notes are written at the begging of every book. I'm not being lazy, I'm sticking to the cannon.

Dear Die-ary, I'm afraid. I finally did it, I grabbed a rifle and a box of rounds out of some hick's truck and shot up the school. I killed everyone that I could see that had ever shown themselves to be true human filth. But I did something wrong. I accidentally killed Jane. I didn't know her personally, but one day I ran into her at the library. We both reached for a copy of a H.P. Lovecraft book. She smiled at me. I've never felt that way before. Now she's dead. I don't know where I am anymore. When I ran out of bullets I just ran away. I was drenched in the blood of a linebacker, but somehow I made it home. I changed clothes and took a shower. I stole my parents money and ran from home. I've never run so far without stopping before. The sun is setting so I can't write much more, but at least I'll be able to see the stars.

Johnny C. 4/30 9:30 PM.

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I found an abandoned house. It's #777. It's not much t look at but I don't think I'll be bothered in here.

A/N:I made another one! The whole thing about Jane is pretty unimportant. It's just someone that he had a bit of a crush on and accidentally killed. This was supposed to be why he doesn't like guns.


	3. may 3

Dear die-ary, I've been living in this small house for three days now. The first night here was the worst. I had terrible dreams. I was back at school, I was just leaning against the corner. I just watched as hot lead dug itself deep into my classmates. I didn't feel sorry for them they deserved what they got, but then I looked at me. I was right there holding the gun. Smiling. Smiling. Smiling. It was like I enjoyed what I was doing. It wasn't my duty or my job, it was a game to me. Skater five points, jock ten, captain of the football team fifty, Jane... Game Over. The manic smile quickly evaporated off of my face. Proof that it wasn't a game any more... it was murder. But hasn't it been murder all along? Those were human beings that I killed. Oh god.. I-I killed... How could I so easily fool myself to believe otherwise? I'm afraid at what I'm turning into. I haven't eaten since I got here. I'm to paranoid about the police to leave the house. I'm sick of these emotions. Fear and paranoia, they have me crippled in my time of need. Hate got me here. What did I do? What do I do? I need help.

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Johnny C. 5/3 12:57 AM

A/N Yes these are all going to be short.


	4. may 7

A/N I noticed there are a couple of other die-ary style fics out there. Did I start a trend or something? Or was there one before me? I don't know that was a while ago. Anywho...

Dear die-ary, I'm hungry. I don't think I have ever been this hungry. I keep getting dizzy, and my vision is fading. Every time I stand up I get a head rush. I don't like this feeling. I don't like this house. How did I get here? I remember my school, but how long ago was that? I'm not me. It's hard to explain, but... I don't know. This can't be who I am. I think I'm going insane, I've been hearing a voice in my head. It's my voice. It's telling me that I'm not crazy, that I can change, but it's SO FUCKING CONDESENDING!! I need to get out of this house. I need some air, some quite. Yeah a nice walk sounds good right now.

Johnny C. 5/7 wherethefuck:Istheclock AM

A/N He is officially losing his mind. Next one will be longer I swear! But the wait won't be.


	5. may 8

A/N I know I said the wait for this chapter wouldn't be too long. That was two and a half months ago and a damnable lie. My bad.

Dear die-ary, when I was out for my walk I found these two Styrofoam models of that little biscuit thing. Poking their bellies really is fun, now I know why everyone does it in the commercials.

Johnny C. 5/8 1:30 AM

_holy sit I just heard an oise coming from a door ive never oticed before and ther was a guy chained up in there he was mad at me and I don't know why what the fuck is going on oh my god what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck_

Dear die-ary, I just killed someone. My hands are shaking, I keep dropping my pencil. He was in my basement. When did I get a basement? When did I get a prisoner? He looked familiar, like I'd seen him somewhere before, but I couldn't really place him. I didn't want to kill him, I tried to explain that to him, but he just kept yelling at me. He called me a fagot and threatened to call the cops. I got scared and panicked. The scariest part is that I (scribbled out) I kind of (scribbled out) I (scribbled out) never mind.

Johnny C. 5/8 3:45 AM

A/N the italicized portion is supposed to have been written in a hurry. SO sorry for the wait guys.


	6. may 10

Dear die-ary, I've been going on walks more and more lately. I have to go for walks in the day to get a job. I'm running desperately low on money. If it wasn't for the utilitarian value of the day I think I would avoid it completely, the night is so much better. The air smells clean(er), it's more crisp, there aren't a thousand eyes staring at you when you leave the house, every thing's more peaceful. The night gives me time to think. I think about everything while I wander the streets. I think about god -a name I used to capitalize-, I think about death, I think about what's right and what's wrong and what's the difference? I don't really know where I'm going with this. This whole page just seems like me bitching about things that I cannot change. It's so meaningless, so trivial. There are so many better things that I could be doing with my time. I could... fuck, what could I do? Time is like pennies. Writing this is like spending all my pennies on those little candies that they sell at the counter. Eating them is something to do, but I'm just eating for the sake of eating. I should be saving my pennies in a little jar until I can get something substantial with them. I guess that would be like learning a skill. I should start drawing again, I used to draw pretty good. Why did I ever stop? Has anyone ever bought anything with a jar of pennies? I'm going to go for a walk and look for something to sketch.

Johnny C. 5/10 11:50 PM

A/N Is it simple filler or am I setting up for some super plot development? I don't know either! Tune in next week/month/season/whenever-I-get-around-to-this-again and find out!


	7. may 11

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Dear die-ary, as I walked through the ghost town that was the city at night, sketch book in hand, I saw something that took my breath away. Not in a "oh, isn't that beautiful" kind of way. No it was more of a "this is so infuriating I forgot to breath" kinda way. It was a fire hydrant that had been hit by a car. It was bent and mangled and totally unusable. In front of this was a little beater of a car, and on it's windshield was a parking ticket. That means that there is some cop out there who is willing to fine someone who owns a shitty car and lives in this shitty neighborhood for parking in front of a useless hydrant. This cop is so worried about making his quota that he will charge the poor to do it! I guess in the end it doesn't really matter, but it symbolized so much to me. I decided that I would draw the scene before me. I sat down on the curb and took out my pencil, but I just couldn't draw. I couldn't focus on drawing, because I was too caught up thinking about that asshole cop. Why are people willing to hurt other people for things like money? He is stealing from the poor! People need to understand that things like stealing are wrong. How can they be so immoral?

Johnny C. 5/11 1:30 AM

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A/N: I am super proud of this chapter for one reason.... I wrote it on my phone. My phone has no keyboard. Oh yes, I'm that cool. I wrote this a while ago and just never got around to posting, so special thanks to oradarroxo for adding this story to his alert list and making me get around to posting.


	8. may 16

A/N Hey people! I'm about halfway through winter break. Guess what that means... I'M BORED OUT OF MY FUCKING SKULL!!! That is until today. Today I got a new guitar amplifier that can, quite literally, rattle shit off of my television. So I've been entirely entertained today playing with all kinds of shiny new knobs and what not, weeeee! But none of you care in the slightest do you? You don't? Well no one loves you either.

Dear die-ary, don't you dare hide from me like that again! I've been looking for you for days! How the fuck did you even get on the roof!? ...Anyway... I forgot what I was going to write about. Oh, right I got a bunny on the 13th but I nailed him to a wall today. I got a paying job! As an artist even. There were these two guys working at a newspaper stand, and I asked them if they'd pay for some of my comics. One of them laughed at me, I don't really remember what happened to him. I guess he went to lunch or something, but after he left the other guy was eager to buy my comics. He handed me all the money in the register and said to just bring them by whenever I had some done. Nice guy. Now that I think about that guy was acting a little funny, and I kinda remember seeing lots of red but the memories just kinda fade. Why do memories have to fade? I wish they wouldn't. I try to think about Jane and the day that we kinda met in the library, but I can't see her face. All the other memories of her are gone too. I know I've interacted with her more than that, passed her in the hallways, something. The cafeteria! I remember seeing her in the cafeteria. No, I remember that I saw her in the cafeteria. I know That there's a memory there but I can't seem to make it materialize. Fuck. I DON'T WANT MY MEMORIES TO FADE AWAY!!

Johnny C. 5/16 11:30PM

In case any of this was over your head. Johnny killed one of the newspaper guys and he was trying very hard to remember the time he killed Jane. I hope that that's obvious.


End file.
